


Stressful Times Ahead

by spectralOasis



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Multi, im so sorry there's like no context if you arent the single other person making this au with me, this is so heavily based on an au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8562391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectralOasis/pseuds/spectralOasis
Summary: '“It’s not? I thought… Nevermind, what I thought, Miv. Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Alistair asked, bringing up an arm to wrap around her, his other hand carding through her hair as he did his best to calm her down. Mivera sighed, letting Alistair soothe some of the anxiety and frustration she’d been holding on to. “It’s nothing in particular, just getting everything ready for the baby on top of our normal obligations has been stressful. I mean, gods Alistair! A baby? With two Grey Wardens? We must be mad!”'
AKA alistair's gonna eat some baby shoes later





	

**Author's Note:**

> if you read this and you aren't arch, let me just apologize in advance

A frustrated scream tore through the air by the kitchens, echoing down the hallway. The kitchen staff paused for a moment before shrugging it off. These sorts of occurrences had become more commonplace since the Grey Warden Alistair had become the new King of Ferelden, bringing along his two companions, and had recently increased even more since the discovery that one of the two elven women had become pregnant. In general, if the scream was not accompanied by the clashing of weapons, and often even if it was, it usually wasn’t worth the time to investigate. This assumption was confirmed when an elf power-walked past the entrance to the kitchens, quickly followed by the King of Ferelden himself, babbling apologies to her as he went. “Miv, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you were planning on hanging those tapestries in the baby’s room. I’ll get you new ones I swear!”

 

One of the the cooks snorted as Alistair’s pleas faded away. “I reckon she’ll be givin’ him the cold shoulder for a few days, eh?” The cook who had spoken was a gruff older dwarf who had been hired by one of the king’s companions when the three came to power, breaking the age-old tradition of only allowing dwarves to work in the castle smithy due to old racial stereotypes. He had grown to be close friends to Alistair’s other companion, the elvhen woman, Sylva, who seemed to have made it her mission in life to be as threatening as possible to everyone she was unhappy with. “Ah, shut it, Garlehn!” cried another dwarf, smacking the back of his partner’s head as he passed. Garlehn winced, rubbing the back of his head as he turned back to his work. “Alright, alright, Kardak! No need for violence.” he grumbled, his partner only shooting him a wink in return before turning to address the rest of the kitchen. “Alright, everybody! Back to work, time is rustin’!” There was a general mumbling around the room as everyone refocused on their tasks. There may not be as many stuck-up nobles around anymore, but there were still plenty of people keeping the castle up and running that they had to keep fed. 

 

\-----

 

It was late afternoon before Alistair finally managed to persuade Mivera to stop and talk with him. He figured she’d be mad when Sylva told him that she had planned to use the decorations for their new baby’s room but he didn’t think she’d be this mad. “Darling, I’m sorry, I really am. You know how much of a dunce I can be, what can I do to make this up to you?” he begged. Mivera kept her glare level at him before letting out a deep breath, letting some of the tension of the day drain away. “It’s alright, dear. It’s not the tapestries that I’m mad about.” she huffed gently, moving forward to lean against her companion. “It’s not? I thought… Nevermind, what I thought, Miv. Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Alistair asked, bringing up an arm to wrap around her, his other hand carding through her hair as he did his best to calm her down. Mivera sighed, letting Alistair soothe some of the anxiety and frustration she’d been holding on to. “It’s nothing in particular, just getting everything ready for the baby on top of our normal obligations has been stressful. I mean, gods Alistair! A baby? With two Grey Wardens? We must be mad!” Her voice pitched up as she pulled away from Alistair to pace around the small room they were in. Her lover tutted softly as he moved in front of her, putting his hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing before holding up three fingers. “Three Grey Wardens, love. Don’t forget Sylva. Even if the baby isn’t hers by blood, you know it’ll be treated as if it is.” Mivera puffed out her cheeks in a pout, holding the air for a moment before letting it out in a huff. “You’re right, I’m just tired.” she admitted. Alistair smiled lopsidedly at her. “Then you ought to go up and rest, me and Sylva can handle the rest of the work for today. Go on, you’ve earned it!” he called as he shooed her out of the room and towards the stairs. “I don’t want to see you out of our quarters until dinner, you hear me!” he teased, earning himself a soft chuckle from Mivera as she relented and turned up the stairs, giving him a little wave as she did so. “Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me.” 

 

Alistair watched her with a smile as she climbed the stairs, waiting until she was out of sight before dashing into the training area, hoping Sylva would be in her usual haunt. He skidded into the room, catching himself on the side of the door before he could fall over gracelessly. Scanning the room, he perked up when he spotted the other elven woman throwing daggers at dummies set up on the far side of the indoor training hall. “Sylva! Come here, we’ve got to plan this out together!” Sylva’s ear twitched at the man’s shouts, turning to face him with a hand on her hip. “Plan what exactly?” she asked, her mind already racing with possibilities. Alistair grinned at her. “The baby’s room.”


End file.
